


FFA (foot fuckers anonymous)

by liebstes



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Foot Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, guys im sorry.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29746722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liebstes/pseuds/liebstes
Summary: Inspired by the number of times Patroclus mentions feet in The Song of Achilles.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 65





	FFA (foot fuckers anonymous)

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU BRIN FOR BEING AN AMAZING BETA READER!!!!!! 
> 
> "okay the next fic will be sfw. I'm returning to my roots," i said, y'know, like a liar. 
> 
> okay. listen. i don't know how i got here. i don't even have a foot fetish. i just have a patroclus having a foot fetish fetish i swear

“Desperate, isn’t he?” 

It’s not belittling, the way Achilles says it. It’s full of admiration, wonderment. Like a child looking at a piece of art that they don’t yet have the means to understand, but are enamored by nonetheless. 

“I bet he could already burst. Come just from this, yes?”

Patroclus’s eyes screw shut. He’s afraid that if he opens them, tears will fall. 

“I thought he’d be amenable to the idea, I was sure of it. I’m just surprised he didn’t ask you himself, lad.” 

He groans as Zagreus curls his toes, hips thrusting up against his foot with abandon. He can feel his pre-come dribble onto the arch of Zag’s foot. He shouldn’t be this close. He _shouldn’t—_

“You’re doing good, lad. Look at him. He used to rub himself against my leg, but Gods, never like this.” Achilles’s voice is rough and impossible to ignore. Patroclus gasps, eyes rolling upward as the images of fucking into tightly pressed pale thighs race through his mind. 

Zagreus’ feet are _hot._ Not enough to be painful, but enough that Patroclus is constantly reminded Zagreus is no mere mortal. It was simultaneously too much and not enough. He claws at the soft Elysium grass as Zagreus presses his foot harder against his cock, and finally he snaps. 

_“Please—_ I can’t— it’s not enough…”

Achilles soothes him instantly, any trace of a smug demeanor gone. He always was able to turn it on and off, the bastard. “It’s okay, Pat, you’re okay.” He pauses, rubbing a hand down Patroclus’ arm. “Here. How about we try this, alright?”

Achilles moves from his position behind Zagreus, gently pulling the foot away from Patroclus. He whines at the loss of touch, eyes still closed so tight it hurts. His skin feels stretched too thin and the echo of a heartbeat he hasn’t felt in centuries drums loudly. He only opens his eyes again when Achilles speaks.

“Here. Look. Maybe this will serve you better.” He’s kneeling in the space between Patroclus and Zag, with both of Zagreus’ feet propped up on his lap. They’re arched back, pressed together with a small sliver of space between his soles. It takes Patroclus a moment to register what he means by _this._

Pat’s eyes flash to Zagreus, questioning. He’s been unusually silent and Patroclus is just about to ask him what he’s thinking, when he leans forward to see Zag’s cock pressed against his belly– pre-come pooling obscenely in the dip of his stomach. He can’t help the grin that stretches across his face. Nevertheless, he asks, “You’re amenable to this position, then, stranger?”

Zagreus nods fervently, a blush spreading down to his shoulders and chest at the attention. Patroclus is more than willing to rise to his knees for this. 

Achilles pours more oil onto his hand before focusing on the feet presented before him, picking one up and rubbing its arch, spreading the oil evenly. Patroclus can see the simultaneous strength and softness in his hands as he massages Zagreus, the pads of his thumbs pressing delicately into the muscle. This is the Achilles he knows.

He trades one foot for the other, looking at Zagreus while he performs the task. If Pat leans forward once more he can see the head of Zagreus’ cock twitch. The muscles in Patroclus’ thigh tense at his bent-over position. He stays. 

“Sir,” Zagreus' voice cracks, and Patroclus is reminded of when he himself sounded like that, young and clumsy with Achilles, eyes tracking every movement as they tussled on their bed in Mount Pelion. Except Zagreus is a divine deity older than Achilles and Patroclus combined, not a gangly teenager. Patroclus had never thought, prior to all this, that a God might still be just as desperate for attention as they were then. 

“I think that’s a sufficient job, um, Achilles sir—” he continues, referencing Achilles’ hold on his feet. It’s true; they’ve been well oiled for a few minutes, but Achilles hasn’t stopped swiping his thumb over the delicate arch, scraping lightly at his heel. 

Achilles arches an eyebrow in response and dons that curved grin that only a few souls are permitted to see. “What, are you not enjoying this, Zagreus?” he asks, eyes lowering to his cock. “Because, frankly, I’m starting to think you’re as interested in this as our dear Pat.”

Patroclus startles at the mention of his name but Achilles pays him no mind, reaching out instead to trace the flush traveling down Zagreus’ chest. His hand stops on Zagreus’ abdomen, two fingers just barely brushing the pre-come dripping from his cock. Zagreus’s whole body shudders as Achilles stays there, doing nothing. 

Zagreus stays silent, eyes so wide that Patroclus almost calls him _Skops_ just to tease. 

“I think you are,” Achilles muses, hushed and quiet like a prayer. He moves his pinky over to brush faintly at the head of Zagreus’ length. 

“Sir–” Zagreus chokes out again, throat bobbing as it catches over nothing. His eyes flash to Patroclus’ and Pat is captivated; he’s still grateful to be able to see what Achilles’ overwhelming attention looks like on someone other than himself. It’s only Achilles’ touch that finally breaks his gaze. 

It’s gentle, just a caress on his arm, but instantly Pat turns. He gets a smile in response, Achilles dropping Zagreus’ feet back down onto his lap before pulling Patroclus in. Patroclus’s eyes are closed before his lips touch Achilles’, parting readily as Achilles licks into his mouth, their embrace morphing into more tongue and teeth than lips. 

He feels his jaw being cradled, and in the heat of the moment, Patroclus tries to climb further into Achilles’ lap only to be stopped by Zag’s feet. His eyes shoot open at the obtrusion and Achilles laughs, pushing him away. “Sorry, I can–” Zagreus tries, already pulling away from Achilles’ lap but is forced still by a grip on his ankle. 

“No, no. Stay there, lad. You’re doing good.” 

Zagreus nods, and before Patroclus can comment Achilles is pulling him back, this time only a quick peck before resting their foreheads together. It’s silent, nothing other than the quiet breathing of his lovers and a gentle murmur from the Lethe to bear witness to their unspoken affection. He breathes in the scent of Achilles, the sea salt that never seems to leave his hair and sandalwood carried over from his shift at the House. It’s so calming that Achilles’ next words feel like he’s being shocked awake. 

“You’re going to come just from rubbing yourself against his feet, aren’t you?” 

He gasps, breath hitting Achilles face. It’s obvious he’s waiting for an answer. “Yes. Yeah, I will. Achilles–” 

“Good,” he soothes, brushing Patroclus’ hair from his face before kissing him once more. “Show me, then.” 

He nods against Achilles’ kiss, their noses bumping sharply. “Okay,” Patroclus says. Achilles drags his fingers down Pat’s chest. “Okay.” 

Patroclus pulls back, positioning himself so that he’s facing Zagreus and his feet outstretched on Achilles’ lap. The artificial daylight breaking in from their windows glisten off his oiled skin and Pat can’t help but drag a fingertip across the arch of his foot, noting the little jerk Zag gives in response. He brings his hands up to press his feet tighter together. 

As he lines up his cock, Pat glances to Zagreus, who’s distracted by Achilles’ wandering hand. “You ready, Prince?” 

Zagreus’ gaze snaps from Achilles to Patroclus and he nods. Patroclus brings his hands up to grip Zagreus’ feet and, of all the things for his mind to think of, it’s Theseus’ voice he hears.  
His ramblings about Zagreus when he and his bull companion wander throughout Elysium. 

Daemon, Theseus calls him. Wretched. Foul. 

Zagreus’ head falls back as Patroclus thrusts fully forward, the head of his cock hitting a strip of Zagreus’ shin that still burns with heat. Patroclus can feel each nerve in his body come alive. 

How can something so beautiful be called sinful, Patroclus wonders. How can his touch be anything other than wholly, unconditionally divine? 

The distraction of recalling Theseus’ blabbering mouth is quickly swept away as Patroclus draws back his hips, immediately starting up a quick pace. His hands falter in their grip due to the oil and a whine escapes his throat, cock spurting pre-come between Zagreus’ feet already. 

Achilles stabilizes Zagreus with a broad hand and Patroclus grunts, eyes closed as he thrusts rapidly between his feet. Its lack of surface area for him to fuck into is more than made up for by the heat Zagreus radiates, the inner arches of his feet burning especially bright. Patroclus can already feel his orgasm building as his thrusts start producing wet, obscene noises. 

He can barely hear Achilles under his own panting. 

“Look at him, lad.” He sounds breathless. Patroclus can’t bother to check. “He’s like an animal. You’re being so good for him.” 

“Blood and–” Zagreus cuts himself off, hips wriggling against the grass as Patroclus squeezes his feet tighter, nearly moving Zag’s entire body with each thrust now. “Pat– I’m–” 

The sound he makes is almost inhuman; he’s not sure what makes him emit such a noise. Some combination of Zag’s pleading, the teasing Pat’s endured, and the desperation to just _cum_ that makes him growl like that. He grits his teeth and Achilles must tell he’s close because he starts murmuring, “yes, that’s it, come on Pat. Let go. You’ve earned it.” 

The edge of his orgasm finally hits and he’s _coming,_ spurts of white across Zagreus’ legs. The Prince cries out at this and Achilles is quick to wrap a hand around his length, only needing to pump a few times before Zagreus is shuddering with a moan. 

It takes a few seconds for Patroclus to come down off the high, and he collapses down next to Zagreus with trembling thighs before thinking of Achilles. “Oh,” he sits back up, “here, love–” but his hand freezes in the air as he sees Achilles’ length laying already soft against his thigh. 

His laugh is bell-like and melodic through the air. Patroclus feels a bit dumbfounded as he smiles instinctively at the sound. “I finished before either of you, my heart. You were a bit too preoccupied to notice, though.” 

“Oh,” he breathes, laying back down with a chuckle. That knowledge–that Achilles had come just from watching them– well. Warmth spreads throughout him. “Well, how are you faring then, stranger?” 

Zagreus laughs drily. “Oh, other than almost having the most embarrassing cause of death yet, well, I’m doing fine, sir, thanks. I…enjoyed that more than I thought I would.” 

Patroclus leans over to kiss him gently, biting his bottom lip just to get _that_ gasp in response. “Good. I’m glad.” 

Achilles leans over to give Patroclus his own kiss, soft and sweet. He cradles Pat’s face with a palm, thumb brushing against the mole on his left cheek. Patroclus leans into it readily. 

“I always knew you had a thing for feet, love–” 

Pat knocks him behind the head before he has the chance to finish.

**Author's Note:**

> wow thanks for reading!! this was definitely a challenge to write but i had lots of fun :) i appreciate any and all kudos/comments/feedback! 
> 
> if you want to follow my twitter it will be linked [here](https://twitter.com/t4tpatrochilles) :)


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